Dan Morris: One giant leap for Dan-kind

I am Dan Morris, but (contrary to what I arrogantly believed for an age) I'm not the only one. Indeed, polar opposites to Tiggers as we are, the wonderful thing about Dan Morrises is that there are rather a lot of us, as I discovered a while back when indulging in the typical smug journo time-killer of giving myself a Google.

I was pleased to have made the top ten, yet my contemporary Dan Ms were a fine assortment of prestigious types that it was difficult for this lowly hack to compete with.

High on the list was Dan Morris the photographer, a Cheltenham-based chap who was in fact named Wedding Photographer of the Year for 2022. Well done, Danny Boy – good snapping lad.

Moving into the political sphere, there is of course the well-known Councillor Dan Morris, Shropshire Council's current portfolio holder for Highways. I've often received messages intended for this much more eminent DM also based in the local area, and have had to politely redirect members of the parish to his inbox... along with a hefty plug for Film Talk (Friday's paper, bang in the middle), of course.

Dan Morris the eye surgeon is doing some mighty work around Cardiff, and Daniel Morris Butchers in Denbigh have been the sauce on their punters' steak for years. Most divergent of all, Oklahoma-born viola player Daniel Morris seems to have enjoyed a reasonable music career in Los Angeles, and was even asked to play on a Grammys commercial.

Figuratively closest to home, however, is the other Dan Morris the journo – a Minnesota-based writer who has been featured in Forbes, The Times West Virginian, and a wealth of other prestigious publications.

Indeed, he is so close to home that the internet believes us to be the same person, thanks to the fact that journo portfolio platform Muck Rack has amalgamated our profiles.

I could easily rectify this, as could Dan across the pond, but I actually love the fact that it is clearly our fate to be joined together Power Rangers-style as a journalistic force of war destined to conquer the UK West Mids and the US Midwest... and possibly fight evil dressed as spandex-clad motorbike couriers. God I miss the 90s.

Of course, if we were able to combine powers with all of the other Dan Morrises of the world we could also be saving sight every Saturday, sorting Sunday lunch through our own butchery, and documenting our many talents to perfection with our cracking camera skills... all to a viola backing track of our own recording, naturally.

For now though at least, science demands that we live as separate entities, and so it is for me to figure out how to climb the ranks of the Dan Morris pantheon.

I've always wanted to try my hand at street magic and circus skills, and I suspect this could give me something of an edge over my namesakes. I've also recently resolved to sign both myself and my daughter up for horse riding lessons as soon as she's big enough – and if being one half of a family equestrian stunt act (Again, I'm thinking spandex) doesn't push me up the Google rankings, then my fellow Dans are clearly upping the ante in stratospheric fashion.

It may, under such circumstances, be necessary to bring out the truly big guns. First Dan Morris on the Moon has got to be a ticket straight to the top of the tree, and as mentioned a few weeks ago, I'll be leaning heavily on Little Miss M to treat her daddy to a trip to the stars as a retirement gift. The trouble is, waiting that long could mean the man from Minnesota pips me to the post. He'd certainly be starting a little nearer to home, and is much more likely to have a convincing astronaut accent.

There's nothing for it then – horseback to Cape Canaveral while fire juggling and sword swallowing it is. The real Dan Morris may never stand up again...